deepundergroundpoetry.com
3 years onward
i've lost a lot of things
Girls, those
withering flowers
most covered by concrete
and the friends
that let their journey
cruise to a stop
The girls call me
up sometimes, really drunk;
asking me why do
i do these things
to people. They cry and
accuse me that
they cant escape
the screaming i brought
to them. I hang up
but they always
come over. The friends
though, never
phone or come over.
it took me a while
to swallow my pride,
now I visit them,
Just a gaunt soul
staring at the ground
thinking maybe
that its all different realities
but the same hell.
Girls, those
withering flowers
most covered by concrete
and the friends
that let their journey
cruise to a stop
The girls call me
up sometimes, really drunk;
asking me why do
i do these things
to people. They cry and
accuse me that
they cant escape
the screaming i brought
to them. I hang up
but they always
come over. The friends
though, never
phone or come over.
it took me a while
to swallow my pride,
now I visit them,
Just a gaunt soul
staring at the ground
thinking maybe
that its all different realities
but the same hell.
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